Four years ago my friend, @thetiffanyhan , asked me what I wanted most in my business but was afraid to do. My reply was to take some time off. I longed for a month off each year to both meditate my brains out and remember what it is to play. She looked at me and said, "Lace, you can totally do that!" Together we mapped out what my upcoming year would look like and I stuck to it!
This is my third year to take time away from screens. No phone. No computer. On October 1st (tomorrow!!!) they'll be powered down and go into a drawer so I may power up.
It's never the same month, or at least it hasn't been so far. I listen to my intuition in the planning stages of everything, especially what a calendar year will look like for my work in the world. This year the break was planned for October and I think Ned knew that.
More than anything this coming month I'm going to grieve his loss. I'm going into silence to commune with my Higher Self and all her wisdom. I'm going put pen to page and see what comes. I'm going into our woods to learn from the trees and ask for their support.
It feels fitting that the Self-Care Sanctuary will officially begin the day I go into my most beloved self-care practice. @kellyraeroberts will be with you throughout the month and I'll see you all at the LIVE Q+R if you've enrolled.
Thank you for holding me in light as you always do.
I love you,
Lacy
Ned kitty July 2000 - September 2018
Dear Ned,
You were unexpected. The day we met you were so tiny but already such an excellent communicator. I understood you immediately when your eyes said, "Take me home, ok?"
That first day I scooped you up in my palm I knew my entire life was about to change. And it did. When I held you in my arms as you left your body I experienced that feeling once again. And everything has changed.
I was always in awe of your patience. It took me a moment to get used to being owned by a cat but sweet boy, you were the best thing I never knew I needed. Even as you grew older and were negotiating blindness you were so patient with yourself and with us. Cliff moved the foot stool yesterday and it seemed so wrong. It's strange to not have everything in it's place so you can get around with ease. I notice your absence everywhere.
I was 21 years old when you chose me and 39 the day you transitioned. You were with me through some of the most gigantic chapters life has to offer and you were unwavering in your love. Except maybe for that year in the RV, I know that one was a challenge. Life at the cabin was the healing antidote we all needed and I am grateful that this is your resting place.
I miss you sitting in my lap for hours on end while I work. I miss the hilarious crunching sounds of you and Cliff eating Fritos. I miss the way you played in the sheets as we made the bed. I miss hearing your heartbeat in my pillow as you lay between us each night. I miss the way you would scoot closer to make sure we were touching. I miss seeing you and Cliff laying out together in the warmth of the sun. I miss the way you'd stand up on your back legs and put your front two paws on my shoulder in anticipation of being picked up. I miss everything about having you in my life.
I hope you've found Uncle Todd in The Oneness. You two would love each other. I hope you feel unlimited and free.
It is an honor to get to love you so much and I will forever